The Hand That Feeds You
by TakenToTheCleaners
Summary: Elizabeta is divorcing her husband. Gilbert Beilschmidt is a divorce attorney who sees his opportunity to have the woman who was stolen by the man he cannot stand. Roderich Edelstein is about to lose everything-perhaps even his health. And Feliciano Vargas is a family member who convinces his German friend to take Roderich in after they find him on the street.


**This is my first fanfiction. Pairings will be past!AusHun, past!Spain/Austria, shortlived!GerAus, shortlived!PruHun, Turkey/Hungary, PruAus, and GerIta. The story will focus mostly around Austria, Prussia and Germany, with side pairing and characters appearing once I have this thing in more of a full swing. I write in secret, so I have neither time nor convenience on my side. Rated M for much future content. Also, if someone could please help me spacing/line breaks on this site, that would be greatly appreciated. *sweatdrops***

**Warnings for this chapter: Drama, hints at death, vague plot clues, and it's short.  
**

_Something was wrong. He knew something was wrong._

_"__I want a divorce, Roderich."_

_"__Elizabeta, please wait, there is something I need to tell you-"_

_"__No! You don't listen! You never listen, and that's why I can't stand you anymore! You just don't understand that you can't tell me what to do!"_

_"__Elizabeta, this is different! You're being ridiculous!"_

_"__I'm being ridiculous? No! I've been unhappy for years, Roderich. You know, I-I never really wanted this."_

_She tore off the ring which had cost a fortune and threw it into the hearth. "I never really wanted you."_

_"__Eliza-"_

_"__Goodnight, Roderich. I'll be sleeping in the guest bedrooom."_

_"__Please..."_

_"__Please what? Is it about your music? Or dinner? Or drinks? Or cleaning the house? Or anything else you decide you could possibly need? What about me, Roderich?! It's always your family, your hobbies, your passion, your needs! What about what I need? What I want? What I desire? When have you ever given me that?! You can't! You don't even know how! We should have never married!"_

_"__I have tried! I've tried to give you all those things, I thought... I thought we were in harmony, I truly did." Two chords, in sync, in love, blending into a domestic melody which was so comforting, so familiar, so...so old! _

_"__Are you blind even with those glasses on? How did you miss the way we've drifted apart, the way I turn away from your touch-even from your voice?! Honestly, you're pathetic, and I...I can't stand it anymore, Roderich. I'll go see an attorney tomorrow."_

_"__If it's true... If it's true..." He could hardly believe...any of it. But shock was kind in numbing him for this moment, at least. "If it's true, then do what you must." He bowed his head, leaning against the wall, feeling so tired. The end would come soon; this was but a sign of confirmation. It was better this way._

_It was better this way, for someone.  
_

He felt no better today.

"Mr. Edelstein, do you agree to the terms Mrs. Edelstein has specified in this divorce decree?"

Roderich's face hardly indicated any of his thoughts, but his hands were trembling in his lap, hidden by the unforgiving oak desk separating himself and his (soon to be ex-)wife from the oddly smug attorney in front of them. The man leaned back calmly, a pair of reading glasses framing eyes which seemed oddly crimson and shone with a harsh glint of triumph. Everything about him screamed victory at the expense of another, a battle one at the cost of ruin lives-or at least one life. In one hand, he held up the formal divorce decree which he had just read out loud to them. His posture was easy, as if he knew the answer which would come; as if he knew that Roderich had no other choice, now that things had progressed this far. Since the very day Elizabeta had decided to divorce him, there had been precious little left for him to negotiate.

But of course. Tearing people apart was this man's profession. It shouldn't feel like a personal stab in the back to see him patiently waiting for Roderich to sign his life away, even though it was. It shouldn't feel like a man he'd known since high school was taking away the only light left in his life.

Even though he was.

And honestly, the Austrian had known that it would eventually come to this. Elizabeta had married strategically, for wealth and shelter and protection. Roderich had never been able to protect her physically, having always been a weak man. His estate would be left to her; so she would still want for naught in that area. Half of his wealth would also be hers, though not much could be said for his funds at the moment. Though some of it had been going to his younger Italian cousins, most of it had went towards a cause which Roderich guarded more fiercely than his grand piano. Elizabeta knew nothing of it, save for that they were growing poorer. And Roderich, in all manners of matter, was growing weaker. He couldn't blame his wife for wanting to get away. If he were able to, he would depart from himself, too. Soon enough.

Adjusting his purely white cravat, Roderich brought himself to meet the other man's eyes. His voice and countenance never wavered, though there was a numbness to his actions which lacked his natural grace. "I do." The simple consent was all he could force out.

Gilbert tipped his head back and laughed, a breathy, peculiar mash of sound. It grated like nothing else on the musician's nerves in that moment. "Oh, you are just hopeless, aren't ya? 'I do' is what brought you and this poor girl into this mess, you know!"

Beside him, Elizabeta let out a huff of laughter which she was too late to muffle. Roderich felt something inside of him twist and tear, which was ironic, since he had checked twice to be certain he'd taken his medication that morning.

"Well, since this will be a divorce of no-contest, you will both sign and then appear in court to have it finalized by a court martial. My work with you is done. Unless, of course, you just want to see me again. In which case I'll be open for business." The wink Gilbert threw was clearly for Elizabeta, but Roderich knew the smirk was aimed at him.

It was too much. He jerked forwards suddenly, desperately, snatched a pen and swiftly penned his name in defined, sharply looped cursive. The last 'n' ended with a decisive flourish across the line.

"I am done with you, Beilschmidt! You take up my time, you take my peace, you take my money, you take my wife-but you will not insult me! Not when I am giving it all away!" Not when he had it all-all Roderich could never, ever give to be enough. Never.

Flushed with anger and exertion and stress, he stood on legs which shaking he hoped was not too noticable, lifted his indigo coat from the back of the office chair and stormed out. A hitched gasp left his throat as soon as he was on the other side of the door that slammed between himself and that man with his wife.

By the time he reached his car, he had convinced himself to remain calm and collected once again. And as far as collecting went, he may as well pack up his things today, if his energy would hold out long enough.

"Gott... How did it come to this?"

Roderich Edelstein was a musician, a husband, and an aristocrat. Gilbert Beilschmidt was a fighter, a divorce attorney, and a mooch.

The were destined to clash, and destined to meet again.

"I'm sorry about him, Gilbert."

"It's alright! The priss doesn't offend me." Gilbert didn't bother to hide a grin as Elizabeta signed her name on the document and carefully slid the precious papers back into their envelope. Papers which would give her freedom, and himself a second chance.

"My lunch break is in about twenty minutes, if you'd like to talk, or if you have any questions... We could grab some coffee and go to the park, like old times."

Cracking a smile, Elizabeta shook her head gently. "I seem to recall you chasing me through the park during old times, Gilbert. But I suppose it's only fair, because I chased you, too. I can't spend time with you today, though. I have things to take care of."

She stood, already feeling more and more like an independent woman, and granted him with a teasing version of the wink he had boldly given her right in front of her husband earlier. "But, Roderich should be gone by next week. Maybe we can play chase then."

Gilbert's first thought was that he had definitely done the right thing by taking on this case.

His second, and much more irksome, was that the Hungarian woman had sounded just like Roderich there, for a moment.

Oh, well. It had probably just rubbed off on her. He could remedy that.


End file.
